Midnight Conversation
by Just Jill
Summary: Edmund knows he doesn't really belong in Narnia, but a conversation from someone he insulted makes him feel like maybe he will. Someday.


Disclaimer: I don't own anything by C.S. Lewis - obviously.

Writer's Note: This came to me one night (at midnight) when I couldn't sleep. It's a little rough, but here it is, anyway.

* * *

Midnight Conversation

Edmund Pevensie woke with a start, gasping for breath. Slowly, he became aware that he lay in a soft bed and was not tied, standing against a tree, a knife at his throat. He relaxed a little, but only a little.

The dying fire lit the room and looked around it, trying to find something – anything – familiar to comfort him. But it was all strange, everything foreign.

It wasn't to Lucy, he knew, never mind that she hadn't grown up with these things. She'd accepted dthe strangeness of Narnia without missing a step , finding a faun perfectly normal in a country that, apparently, existed in a wardrobe. In return, Narnia had accepted her. Peter and Susan had adapted as well; even if he'd hated it, he'd seen Peter go from being his older brother to being the High King. And hated him for it.

Shivering, Edmund got up and pulled on the heavy robe that hung on the back of the chair near the bed. And here he was, so… foreign in a land fantastic…. He sighed. Not so much foreign as… someone who didn't belong. It had never occurred to him to ask the name of the Horse he'd ridden before the battle – and never would he have thought to ask the Horse!

"Surprised he didn't buck me off," Edmund muttered, and started at the sound of his voice in the room. It was so… BIG. Finding his slippers, he left, heading for the outside – because outside was outside, and if he didn't look at the stars, maybe he'd feel less… more… He huffed in frustration and practically ran for the nearest stairwell leading to a door out.

It was a warm night; normal for summer near the sea. The large meadow was open, sprinkled liberally with trees, and he sank down at the base of one. "I hope you don't mind if I sit here," he murmured self-consciously, but when the tree didn't push him away, he settled against it.

He'd dozed shortly when someone said "Your Majesty?" and startled him awake. All he saw was a large shadow blocking the stars and he flinched back into the tree. The shadow stepped back and resolved into a dark Horse. "My apologies. I didn't mean to startle you."

"No, no, it's fine," Edmund said, forcing himself back together. He had to remember he was a King here! Wait… that voice sounded familiar. "Phillip?"

The Horse snorted. "Yes, your Majesty?"

Edmund sighed. "Strange as it sounds, you're the first familiar… well, thing, if you'll pardon the term, I've run into all night."

"Were you avoiding company?"

Edmund choked back a laugh that he knew would be impolite at best. "Not… on purpose," he said, "but it is rather late."

Phillip snorted again. "Just so," he said neutrally. "What I meant was, do you wish to be alone."

"No," Edmund said, far too quickly, and sounding far too desperate for his pride. But then he found he didn't care. "No," he said again, calmer. "Did I apologize for calling you 'horsey'? Because I never asked, you know. It never even occurred to me to ask you for your name," he added, ashamed.

Phillip didn't answer, but then folded his legs gracefully under him and sank down within arms reach. "Apology accepted," he said.

Edmund wanted to move, to lean against the warm Horse, but didn't dare. He felt so far out of his depth, he didn't know what to do. Who should he ask about how to start a conversation with a Horse? How does one go about making friends with…

"Your Majesty…"

"Oh, please," Edmund begged, sounding _far_ too close to tears, "call me Edmund. His Majesty is sleeping contentedly up in my room."

Phillip made a strange sound that Edmund finally realized was a laugh. He smiled, relaxing a little; it couldn't be too bad if Phillip were laughing, right?

"Very well, Edmund. I've got an itch on my neck, just above my whithers. If you could just…." His request ended in a sigh as Edmund willingly burring chilled fingers in the thick brown mane, leaning against the inviting warmth.

"How did you wind up out here?" Phillip asked when Edmund had finished his ministrations and had relaxed a little more.

"Nightmare," Edmund said softly. "And then my room… His Majesty's room… was so big, and so strange, I had to get out."

"Strange?"

"Narnia is strange," Edmund continued. "I can't get used to it." He fell silent, unable to put his thoughts and feelings into words.

Phillip sighed softly. "We've noticed, some of us," he said after a while. "I said I'd talk to you, if I got the chance, since I know you best. Is there anything we can do?"

Edmund was trying not to cry, not sure why, but it was so _nice_ to have someone offer to help, to have someone to talk to. He took a deep breath. "Just bear with me," he said, his voice shaking. "I'm sure I'll feel like I belong someday."

Phillip's head jerked up. "Who has made you feel like you don't belong?" he demanded, so fiercely that Edmund thought he was going to trample the guilty parties under his hooves.

"Only myself," Edmund admitted.

Loneliness washed over him, then, like it had his first few days at that horrid boarding school. Only then, no one had been there to stave the feeling off. No, they'd made it worse, and made it easy – even necessary – for him to become the kind of person who would lie to his brothers and sisters, and betray them – especially Lucy – in the worst way possible.

Edmund buried his face in Phillip's mane and cried. Wisely, the Horse kept silent and let him cry himself out. Finally, Edmund's sobs eased into hiccups, and he idly began to stroke the Horse's neck. "Thank you," he said softly.

"You're welcome," Phillip said, just as quietly.

After a moment, Edmund sighed. "They won't like it if I stay out here."

"They?"

"Peter," Edmund said. "And he's right. I shouldn't worry people like that."

"If you'd like, I'll walk you the castle," Phillip offered.

"I'd like that very much," Edmund said, and got to his feet. Phillip rose, less gracefully than he'd laid down, and the two walked toward the side door Edmund had left by. "Thank you again, Phillip."

"I'm usually in that field at night," the Horse said. "The trees or one of the other Horses will be able to find me if you want me for anything."

Edmund smiled. "Thank you," he said again. "And let me know if you need me for anything." With one last pat, he went inside and up the stairs. Stepping out of his slippers, he left them by the side of his bed, and lay his robe across the arm of the chair. He crawled into bed. At least, he thought as he got comfortable again, I might have a friend. Much comforted by that thought, he stretched out, and fell asleep.


End file.
